I love a surprise, so when I learned of the impromptu full-moon float on the Kaw, I was super excited. I didn’t know what to expect because I had never been on the river at night, and I had only been on the

Kaw once before. I didn’t know how many miles we would travel; I didn’t know who would be there, or what we may see along the way. I did know that since it was organized by the 38 NorthFest crew that it would be an adventure – and during this time of pandemic lockdown I was more than ready to have an adventure!

When we moved to the Lawrence area in 2014, we were given a canoe from our dear neighbors in Kansas City, so this was a great opportunity to put it to use. Erin and I arrived at the Rising Sun boat ramp in Lecompton at 7pm, shuttled by our daughter, and were met by Jonathan and Doug. Not long after, Dan arrived, and Brian, Jenna, Lillian, Cris, Blair, Marty and Steve, the fearless organizer made a perfect dozen. We admired their floating vessels as we waited for everyone else to arrive – what a variety! There were other canoes, kayaks, and a paddle board. We left the boat dock and ventured out into the water to see what the evening would bring. After a few minutes of meandering back and forth across the river, we found our rhythm. It was a beautiful evening – calm and cool, the sun at our back. It was easy to practice social distancing while having a conversation with other floaters, making new friends as we paddled. As the sun dipped closer to the horizon we were given a spectacular show of color – clouds absorbing and reflecting the warm hues of the sun’s rays, and the water reflecting the clouds – it was a wonderful reminder of the enormous beauty in the world and an encouragement to just receive it – a gift to be thankful for in this uncertain time. This had to be one of the longest sunsets I had ever witnessed, and I took many photos, trying to hold on to it. Finally, the sun gave way to the horizon and darkness arrived. This was to be a full-moon float, but the moon was not ready to show itself just yet, and so we settled into the darkness. At one point I felt the vulnerability of being in a habitat that was not my own. I didn’t really know where we were on the river, and I could hardly see the person in front of us, so I strained my eyes and paddled hard to keep up. It was exhilarating and humbling at the same time.

There was a planned stop at a sandbar along the way and this was a good time to wait for the moon. Everyone made their way to the sandbar and staked out a spot to sit or stand. Forward-thinking Steve planned ahead and provided a small bon-fire and libation for us to share and toasted to friluftsliv! We all enjoyed each other’s company while the moon slowly revealed itself.

Had it not been a weeknight, I think I may have just stayed on that sandbar and watched the stars all night, but we were advised that the park closed at 11:30 and we needed to get back on the water. We paddled on, the moon guiding our way, continuing conversations and listening to laughter from others. We texted our son asking him to meet us at the end point with the car, not really knowing how long we would be. He was a good sport sitting at the dock waiting for us and enjoying the river for himself.

We wondered if we would ache the next day from the 11 miles of paddling, but shrugged it off, knowing that the adventure we had was well worth a few sore muscles. As we finished strapping our canoe to the car and saying our goodbyes, we knew that this was a special evening, and something that we should definitely do again…and again.